Moonlight Becomes You
by KatieTaylor
Summary: MLCon 08 Fan Fic Contest entry. A little bit of MickBeth Fluff.
1. Moonlight Becomes You

Moonlight becomes you, it goes with your hair

Title: Moonlight Becomes You  
Author: Cprav  
Characters: MickBeth  
Rating: PG13.

Spoilers: None that I can think of.  
Notes: MLCon 08 Fan Fic Contest entry. I wasn't going to post this, because I hate it, but what can I say? I'm addicted to fic. Too bad the muses weren't quite so dedicated.

Summary: A little piece of fluff.

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. Don't sue! It's not CBS' either. ;)

She closed her eyes and felt the string of cool, smooth pearls settle against her throat. She felt fingers close the clasp and smooth the necklace against the nap of her neck. Two hands trailed fingers along the column of her throat. They alternately stroked and lingered until they settled on her shoulders. His thumbs ran along the almost non-existent straps of her dress. She leaned back into him as his hands started to move again, up and down her arms. She felt the pressure of his hands change as he bent down, felt his breath and his hair whisper across her skin as he leaned his to taste her skin.

"Mick…" Beth opened her eyes to find his in the mirror, but only one pair looked back at her.

She sighed. She'd been doing that a lot lately – drifting off and thinking about Mick. Imagining him doing the most wondrous things to her, or just lounging on the couch, enjoying his company. Beth picked up an earring from the small vanity in front of her and as she fastened it and reached for the next one she silently berated herself. It was happening at the worst of times. Even during one of her broadcasts. Luckily it hadn't been live and she and Steve had simply re-shot the piece. She needed to move on. Mick wasn't able to take their relationship any further and she would rather have his friendship than screw everything up by pushing him. But all the drifting off and daydreaming sure wasn't helping anything.

She checked herself in the mirror, touched up her make up and pulled on a pair of strappy heels that perfectly matched her burgundy dress. After looking around to make sure she had everything one last time, she picked up her purse and headed out to the car. Steve would be bringing the camera equipment they needed. Tonight was the Mayor's annual charity ball and for some reason Maureen had assigned coverage of the event to Beth. For some reason she couldn't quite figure out, she hadn't complained about it. Perhaps she hoped the change of pace would give her one night free from thoughts of Mick.

Another part of her though somehow doubted it would be so easy. A roomful of dancing, well-dressed people was sure to make her think of a certain someone. Even now she imagined being in his arms as he led her around the dance floor. With a frustrated sigh she shook her head to clear her thoughts, concentrating on the drive to Buzzwire.

Mick stepped carefully through the crime scene, trying to pick up anything the cops may have missed when they processed the scene. The numbered evidence markers and chalk lines still littered the floor of the convenience store; yellow tape still cordoned off the area outside. Mick closed his eyes and concentrated on the scent of the place, breathing it in. The bitter anger of the gunman; his panic as the gun accidentally fired; his resolution as he finished off the rest of the witnesses and fled. The fear of the store's workers and patrons as he yielded his weapon was an acrid, spicy aphrodisiac, calling to Mick's dark side, urging him to come out and play. With a deep, unneeded breath, he locked that part of himself back away. The sulfurous, metallic smell of the gunpowder; the coppery, tangy, rich, but dead smell of the blood that had drained out of the shooter's victims. He was able to pick out the individual blood types even as the different flavours mixed together to create an exotic mix. So different than blood from a live source – it was hard to describe the scent of life, the scent of fear from an unwilling donor, or excitement and arousal from a willing freshie. His thoughts strayed for a moment. He wondered what Beth would taste like if he drank from her as she climaxed. The taste he'd had in the desert had left him wanting more…

He locked back onto the scent of the fleeing gunman, not more than a teenager, Mick suspected. The trail led off to the right and as he started to follow it, another aroma drifted toward him. This was a scent he would know anywhere, and longed for when it wasn't around: sweet and roses and strawberries and…Beth. He smiled as he turned to her.

"Beth, I thought you were suppose to be at the Mayor's ball tonight." And indeed, she was certainly dressed for it. The dress she had chosen made him want to growl in jealousy at the thought of anyone else had seeing her in it. Her hair framed her face in loose tendrils, falling from a clip. And her shoes were hanging from her fingers.

"Steve and I were on our way when Maureen called and said she wanted her best crime reporter on this shooting. Guess I miss out on my fancy night." Mick closed the distance to her and looked down at her, trying to determine her mood. She had a playful glint in her eye, but there was a hint of disappoint as well.

"Why is that? These things usually go on forever."

"Well, Maureen already assigned someone else. They were very excited, I'm told. I'm sure they'll appreciate it even more than I would anyway." Mick searched her face for a moment, then smiled.

"I can't give you a big ballroom full of people, but why don't we finish up here and go do something?" She looked at him in surprise and was speechless for a moment.

"Really?" He smirked.

"Yeah. I know a place with a great view."

Mick flipped on the stereo system from the kitchen and set the disc changer to play randomly. It was full of stuff from his human days; the perfect music for the perfect night. He pulled two crystal flutes down from the cupboard and filled them with sparkling, golden champagne. Holding both flutes in one hand, he picked up the bottle and carried everything out toward the balcony, but stopped short of crossing the threshold.

Beth leaned barefoot, her shoes abandoned inside the door to the apartment, against the ledge, staring out at the city's nightscape, the full moon high overhead throwing all the light required onto the balcony. It shone down onto her, giving her an angelic aura. Highlighting her hair with liquid platinum as it floated lightly in the warm breeze. The scene was a picture of perfection. Finally Mick crossed over into the night air and joined her, brushing against her as he did, causing a jolt of electricity to shoot through him. He recovered quickly, setting the bottle on the ledge and handing her a glass. His eyes locked with hers and they held the gaze over the rim of their glasses as they sipped their drinks.

Mick didn't know why, but the air seemed to be charged. It was something about these few perfect moments on the balcony – no cases, no nothing. Just them. They drained their glasses and he set them next to the bottle.

"Well, I'm not dressed in my monkey suit, but I believe a ball should have dancing. May I have this dance?" He put his hand out to her. She beamed up at him and took his hand and he led her away from the edge as a new song started. He smiled. There wasn't a more perfect song for the moment. He held her hand close to his heart, and the other slipped around her waist. He found her eyes again and held them as they started to dance, Bing Crosby's deep voice filtering out onto the balcony.

Moonlight becomes you, it goes with your hair  
You certainly know the right thing to wear  
Moonlight becomes you, I'm thrilled at the sight  
And I could get so romantic tonight

You're all dressed up to go dreaming  
Now don't tell me I'm wrong  
And what a night to go dreaming  
Mind if I tag along

If I say I love you  
I want you to know  
It's not just because there's moonlight  
Although, moonlight becomes you so

Beth knew Mick could hear the hammering of her heart in her chest. Being this close to him was intoxicating, even with her lame human sense. She wondered for a moment how much more intense the moment would be if she could feel it as he did. Just the slight brush of his jeans against her silk dress was enough to send a shock through her body. Now she was pulled so close to him as he led her around the balcony, separated only enough that they could meet each other's eyes; and she was lost in his. She couldn't remember seeing them so free of…everything that normally weighed him down.

The music switched to some upbeat Glenn Miller piece, but they stayed locked in their slow dance. Without breaking their gaze, he slowly moved in to kiss her, giving her ample opportunity to pull away if she wanted. Instead she moved in to meet him halfway. Their lips moved slowly, tentatively, their feet finally realized the song had ended and they stood still and Mick pulled her even closer. Their mouths opened and they explored each other for the first time, growing more insistent. He still held her hand between them, his other moved into her hair, hers roamed his back.

Finally she was forced to break the kiss to take a much-needed breath. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes to compose himself before he did something he might regret. They stayed like that for a long moment until he finally broke the silence.

"It does, you know. And I do." She pulled back slightly and looked at him quizzically. "The moonlight makes you glow. You're radiant normally but tonight you're an angel. And I love you, Beth. I have for a long time." She laid her head on his shoulder.

"I love you too." They stayed like that, swathed in the moonlight, dreaming of their future.


	2. Bathed in Moonlight

Title: Bathed in Moonlight  
Author: Cprav  
Written: 2 December 2008  
Rating: R (just to be safe)  
Word Count: 500  
Characters: Mick, Beth  
Pairings: MickBeth  
Spoilers: None  
Warnings: None  
Disclaimer: We don't own Moonlight or any of the characters. We're just borrowing them for a little bit.  
Summary: Continues immediately after Moonlight Becomes You. [url].?f=117&t=213[/url]

Notes: Challenge fic. [url].?f=465&t=5665[/url]  
[color=#800000]smutless smut -- "sensuality over sexuality".

Write an intimate scene WITHOUT the graphics. No descriptions of genitalia or even the specific maneuvering required. Don't even use the word "sex". Paint the picture with words and imagery.  
[/color]

VvvV

"I love you, Beth. I have for a long time." She laid her head on his shoulder.

"I love you, too." They stayed like that, swathed in the moonlight, memorizing each other in this new light, imagining their future together. So many things they wanted to say to each other, but no words needed to be spoken. Everything was conveyed through their eyes, their touch.

It wasn't long before they started to move again, arms wrapped around each other, in time to another slow song that played on Mick's stereo system. Their feet carried them around the balcony; their eyes were locked on each other, hazel gazing into blue. He reached his hand up and wove his fingers through golden strands. Finally he broke their gaze, his eyes travelling down to her ruby lips.

Once again he leaned down to capture them. She sighed, her breath a warm whisper against his cool, sensitive skin. The kiss grew in intensity as their feet slowed, then stopped. The music continued, unheard, in the background. All Beth could hear was the rustle of clothes and her breathing, growing faster as his lips grew more demanding. Mick smiled as he listened to her heart race. When he caught her scent on the breeze he knew this wouldn't end with a smile and a declaration of love and an embrace. It couldn't - too much time and desire and anticipation was built up between them; that electricity from a few minutes ago had returned, amplified – or maybe it had never left. The first kiss had been a trickle though a dam, and now that dam was about to break.

With slight pressure against her silk covered back, Mick led her toward the blanket he'd laid out earlier. He sunk to his knees, pulling her with him, never breaking their connection until they had settled on the balcony's floor. They separated, if only inches apart. She bit her lip, smiling; his tongue peeked out and moistened his own as he searched her face. Their eyes met again as he lay her back, her hair spread out on the blanket like a halo.

Mick's hands trailed down; flutter of silk, rustling cotton; cool, hard body met soft, hot flesh, slick with sweat. He worshiped her body – light caress, wet trail. They moved together; whispers of love and promise, pleading and begging falling from bruised lips. He found his redemption in the way she touched him, the fire and love in her eyes.

Only one thing was missing – her essence on his tongue. Mick waited for that one perfect moment then struck. The first splash of red ambrosia on his tongue was his undoing – so different than the time before. Addictive. He could never be without her now – her taste, her scent, the sound of her voice, the feel of her around him.

He lay next to her, as she slept. Radiant. Perfect. Full lips, rosy cheeks, peaceful and beautiful bathed in the silver moonlight. His own Guardian Angel.

~ End


End file.
